Little Lady Nomad
by BillyBones0690
Summary: When Quinn, the president of the Nomad charter, finds out he had a teenage daughter he has to come up with a plan fast. This is the story of Emily and how she fits into the SOA family. I suck at titles and summaries. First attempt at a fanfic.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own Sons of Anarchy. All of the characters in this story, with the exception of Emily, are owned by Kurt Sutter. **

**Ch. 1**

The girl was scrawny. Dirty blonde hair framed a pale face with hazel eyes. Eyes filled with distrust and even more hopelessness. Those eyes were too old for the fourteen year old girl. Quinn had seen eyes like that one some of this brother, the older ones that had done hard time. Eyes like that watched and saw everything

All in all, she wasn't what the Nomad President had expected when the social services bitch had called and told him that he had a fourteen year old daughter and that she would be dropped off with him the next day. Apparently the state had given up on her so much that they were willing to hand her over to her outlaw biker daddy that didn't have a permanent residence and had never even fucking heard of her. First thing he was gonna do was get a fucking DNA test done; she wasn't his, he'd send her packing. He had no idea what the hell he'd do with her if she was his.

The girl was walking to him, the social worker bitch hadn't even gotten out of the car to check that he was the right guy. She was wearing dirty old converse, ripped jeans and a jacked over a ratty t-shirt. There were four or five necklaces with what looked to Quinn like junk dangling from them around her neck. The only thing she had with her was an old backpack.

Quinn stood up from where he had been leaning against his bike. The suit had already left, so now it was just him and the girl that was watching him with unreadable eyes. Quinn looked down at her. Damn, not only was she scrawny, she was a tiny little thing too. He himself was a giant of a man; tall, solid, and covered in tattoos. A mean-looking bastard that usually evoked fear in grown man. And now this little bit of a girl was just looking steadily up at him. No fear, no intimidation. Tough little bitch. That's when Quinn decided he didn't need a DNA test, this kid was his. He just knew it.

"So you're Emily?" Quinn grunted, glaring down at the girl, trying to get something out of her.

"So you're Quinn?" Emily countered. Quinn grinned.

"Get on." He said, getting on his bike and reving it. The tiny girl settled on behind him, wrapping her arms round him tightly and leaning her head against his back as he sped out of the parking lot. Quinn still didn't know what to do with the girl, so he just headed West. He did his best thinking while riding anyway.

Four hours later Quinn had a plan. He pulled into a motel that he sometimes stopped in for the night when he was riding through this area. Emily's girp had been slacking the last hour, so Quinn was going to let her rest wile had made some calls.

The room he rented only had one bed and Quinn didn't want to think about what it must look like for a big burley biker like him to be leading a little girl into a shit-hole motel room like this. Emily must have been thinking along the same lines because she kept glancing at Quinn apprehensively after he shut the door behind them. The first trace of fear Quinn had seen from her and it made him wonder if someone had done something to her. He didn't have time to worry about those quesitions right now, though, and he was certain she wouldn't tell him even if he asked.

"Get some rest, Tiny. I got some calls to make, figure out what the hell I'm doing with you." Quinn turned to leave the room.

"Are you comming back?" Emily asked. She was watching him again, but now there was a shadow of doubt in her eyes. She though he was going to just dump her in the middle of nowhere and take off.

"Yeah, Tiny. I'll be back." Quinn wasn't sure why he kept calling her Tiny, but the name suited her and she didn't seem to mind. Emily nodded and set her bookbag down beside the bed and then disappered into the bathroom while Quinn left.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own Sons of Anarchy. Most of the characters in this story, with the exception of Emily, are owned by Kurt Sutter. If you do not recognize a character, they are probably a figment of my imagination. **

**Ch. 2**

To say that the President of the Tacoma charter was surprised when Quinn rode into the lot with a teenage giirl on his bike was an understatement. He'd called ahead to tell Bear that he'd be heading there, but he hadn't mentioned Emily.

They'd been riding for five days and Quinn still had no idea what to do with the girl. He didn't know anything about her, really, except that she was quiet as hell. Never said a word unless someone spoke to her, then it was only enough to answer a question. Weren't teenage girls supposed to talk alot? Quinn couldn't remember the last time he had spent any time around a teenage girl, but he seemed to remember wanting them to shut the hell up.

What Quinn did know was that he couldn't keep dragging her around with him. He'd already had to kill a Myan and help a fellow nomad get rid of a body, leaving Emily unguarded in a mote. If he kept her with him it would only be a matter of time before she ended up in the middle of a fire fight or witnessed him kill someone. Quinn wasn't a good man and that wasn't going to change, but he wanted to keep that side of himself out of sight of Emily if he could.

This was why they were in Tacoma, Washington.

Bear had been Quinn's sponsor when he'd been a prospect and he always had some good advice if Quinn found himself in a bind. And he would say that suddenly being responsible for a teenager that seemed to have more problems than she had self was definately the biggest bind he had ever been in.

"Little bit's kinda young, ain't she?" Bear's booming voice called as he came to crush Quinn into a hug. Quinn might be a big man, but Bear had gotten his name honest.

Emily was standing a few feet back, watching them. She had put her helmet on the handle bar beside his like he'd told her and was now standing huddled in a leather jacket in the chilly October air. Quinn had stopped at a Harley Davidson store the second day and gotten the helmet and jacket for her, she had looked like she was freezing her ass off in that thin jacket. Quinn saw the scars that were scattered accross her arms for the first time when she switched jackets, but again didn't ask about it. Most of them had looked old, but some were newly healed. Cuts, cigarette burns, and one big one on her left forearm that looked like someone had held her arm to a stove burner. Did he need to ask about them, or just make sure nothing like that ever happened to her again? He had no fucking clue.

"Come over here, Tiny." Quinn called back to Emily, ignoring Bear's question for now. Emily walked over to them, eyeing Bear with the same undreadable expression that she always watched Quinn with. Not for the first time in the last few days Quinn wondered what the fuck was goingon in that little head of hers. Bear was watching her with curiosity.

"This is my kid, Emily." Quinn said, turning back to Bear. "Em, this is Bear. He's the president of the Tacoma charter." He had sat down with her yesterday and explained the club and the different charters so that she would know what she was being thrown in to and why it was dangerous for her to stay with him. She seemed to understand well enough, he thought.

Bear had started choking on the beer he had been drinking when Quinn said kid, but now he leveled them both with an angry look.

"Kid? What the fuck, Quinn! Had a kid and din't bother to tell anyone about her?" Bear growled. He really did resemble a grizzly bear when mad.

Quinn glanced down at Emily, who was gazing up at Bear with curiosity. Bear noticed this too and glared back down at her as if it were all her fault. When Emily didn't show any hint of fear, the anger seemed to go out of Bear. He sighed and rubbed a hand over his face.

"Didn't know aobut her, huh?" He guessed. Quinn nodded and Bear looked at Emily again. "Well, she's definatly yours, 'cept the height. What'd ya do, fuck a midget?

That made Quinn think for a moment, and then another. He really had no clue who Emily's mother had been. Quinn scratched his beard, head cocked to the side, and then shrugged.

Bear burst out laughing at this, "Brother, this is why I say find a Charter and keep your dick there. Else you start having kids pop up and you don't even remember who you fucked to get 'em." Bear grinned down at the girl huddled in the leather jacket. "Come on, Little Bit, lets get you inside where its warmer. Tink'll probably be glad to have a girl around."

The three went into the clubhouse. It was midday, so most of the guys were gone. Just a prospect and a couple of Nomads could be seen along with Tink, Bear's old lady.

"Hey! Look what rolled in!" One Nomad that went by Midget called, standing up. He then paused mid step, seeing Emily. "Umm..."

"Pres!" The other had turned around to see what Midget was looking at. He stared at the two huge men followed by the shorted teenager he had ever seen. "Well, that's new."

Quinn growled in frustration. He was going to have to introduce Emily to everyone and get stupid responses from them, wasn't he? God, he hated people.

"This is my kid, Emily. Those two are Midget and Bill." Quinn said quickly. "I need a beer."

Emily stayed where she was watching the two new men as Quinn made his way to the bar where the Prospect got him a beer. Midget was short for a man, but still was a good five or so inches taller than Emily's 4'8". He was Hispanic with a deep scar running down the left side of his face. Bill, on the other hand, was of average height with shaggy blonde hair and blue eyes. He smiled at Emily, where Midget was still glaring and getting no response.

"Hey there, Emily. Nice to meet ya." He said, grinning.

"Hello." Emily said, then let Bear lead her over to the bar to a middle-aged woman with long brown hair pulled back into a ponytail. She wore a Harley Davidson tanktop, jeans, and riding boots.

"Tink, mind takin' this little bit out for awhile? Go shopping or some shit, looks like she could do with some better clothes." Bear handed Tink a wad of cash, eyeing the girl's torn jeans and the soles that were falling off of her shoes. "And take her home with you for the night. She can have the guest bedroom." Bear could see Quinn itching for something stronger than the beer in his hand and knew from experience that the Nomad president would be drunk and balld deep in a blonde sweet butt tonight. The girl seemed to be pretty unflappable, but she didn't need to be anywhere near that.

Quinn nodded at Emily that she should go with Tink, throwing his brother a thankful look before grabbing the nearest bottle of tequila.

"Prospect! Go with Tink and the kid." Bear barked at a surley looking young Hispanic man with short brown hair in a buzz cut and tattoos on both arms. "Stay with them until they get back to my place." The prospect nodded once, then turned to follow Tink and Emily outside, not looking at all happy about having to follow two females around on a shopping trip.

**That's chapter 2. What do you think? And can anyone guess who the Prospect is?**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I do not own Sons of Anarchy. Most of the characters in this story, with the exception of Emily, are owned by Kurt Sutter. If you do not recognize a character, they are probably a figment of my imagination. **

**Ch. 3**

Emily hadn't been back to the Tacoma charter's clubhouse since Tink had brought her to get new clothes. It was a kindness that she certainly wasn't used to; usually she wore clothing handed down from other or Salvation Army donations. In fact, Emily couldn't remember the last time she had had anything new and was extremely grateful to Bear andTink.

"Emily?" Tink's voice called up the stairs. Bear's house was set up so that all of the bedrooms were upstairs with the kitchen, dining room, and living room on the lower level. Emily headed downstairs, taking the book she had been reading with her.

"Yes Ma'am?" Tink had her purse on her arm, clearly about to leave. The prospect, Happy, was sitting at the kitchen table behind her with a beer.

"Baby, how many times do I have to tell ou to call me Tink?" The woman asked in exhasperation, but just sighed and let it go. Emily's eyebrows werer drawn together in an uncomfortable frown and she seemed to be forcing herself to stay put. The first few times TInk had tried to get Emily to call her by her name, the poor girl had paniced and ran back upstairs. She was getting better, but still couldn't bring herself to call an adult by their given name.

"Never mind, Emily." Tink sighed. "I have to go in to work for a few hours and then stop by the clubhouse to check on the guys, okay? Happy's going to stay with you until I get back." Tink looked back and forth between both of them. To Happy so he would know to stay until she had gotten back and to Emily so the girl would know that she _was_ comming back. One thing that they had found out about Quinn's daughter was that she had abandonment issues; she always asked if Tink and Bear were comming back when they left. That's why Bear had decided that they should send someone to stay with her if Tink had to leave her for more than an hour or two at a time, even though she was fourteen and completely capable of looking after herself.

"Is my dad still there?" Emily asked. She saw uncertainty in Tink's eyes and Happy was watching them closely. This was a question she asked everday too.

"Of course he is, Darlin'. Quinn wouldn't leave without telling you." Tink said quickly. Emily could tell that she was lying and had been since Saturday. Quinn and Emily had arrived in Tacoma on a Thursday and now it was Tuesday.

After Tink had left, Emily went to sit at the table with Happy. He was the only one Emily felt almost comfortable with. He rarely spoke to her when he was asked to stay with her and if he did he wasn't put off by her short answers. Plus, he didn't treat her like she was defective, just let her be herself.

Emily had just finished her chapter in 'The Hobbit' when Happy spoke.

"Do you think Quinn is still at the clubhouse?" He was watching Emily with unreadable black eyes.

Emily looked up from her book. It was one she had borrowed from Tink and she was almost finished reading it. They didn't have any of the Lord of the Rings books that came after this one, though. Maybe there was a library near.

"No. I think he took off Friday night. Tink started lying on Saturday."

"Happy nodded, "Smart girl. Why do you keep asking, though?" He was leaning towards her now, as though looking closer would help him figure her out.

"To see how long it will take her to tell me the truth." Emily replied. She wasn't angry at Tink, or at Quinn for that matter. Only curious.

"They're just trying to protect you. After all, your dad did just dump you with strangers." Happy seemed to be more offended by this than she did.

"I'm used to being dumped with strangers."

Happy shrugged. "Still a bitch move on his part." He grinned. If any of the guys heard him say that about Quinn they'd kick his ass or worse. But, if she wasn't bothered by it, he might as well not be.

"You want to get out of the house?" He asked her after a few moments of silence. It was a warmer day than it had been so far this week. Probably one of the last nice days before winter truely came down on them.

"Is there a library around?" Emily asked immediately. Happy noticed that she was just a few pages away from the end of her book.

"There's a book store."

"I don't have any money." Emily sighed and started to read again.

Happy stood up and put on his cutt with the word 'Prospect' on the back. "We'll go the the bookstore. If you find something, I'll get it for you." Emily started to protest, but was cut off. "Hey, I did a background check on you, Baby Girl. Your birthday was yesterday and you didn't tell anyone. Now I'm going to get you a book, no arguments."

Happy saw sonething that might have once been a smile ghost over Emily's face and smiled to himself. Yeah, he liked this girl. Like alot.

Emily couldn't find any of the Lord of the Rings books at the bookstore, but she did find a compiled collection of horror stories. The book contained Brahm Stoker's Dracula, Marry Shelly's Frankenstein, and Dr. Jekell and Mr. Hyde as well as a few others.

"You like horror?" Happy had asked when she brought him the book.

Emily had nodded. "I like any kind of book."

"Not much of a reader. I like horror films, though." Happy said, taking the book from her. It was bound in brown leather with gold letters and one of those attatched ribbon bookmarks.

When they got back to Bear's house it was just starting to get dark. Tink had said that she wouldn't be back until late.

"You hungry?" Happy asked as he parked his motorcycle at the edge of the drive, leaving plenty of room for Tink's car to pass. "I can order a pizza." He couldn't cook for shit and he had seen Emily's unusual habit of giving the stove and all other appliances that had a potential to be hot a wide berth. She would even go as far as walking all the way around the edge of the room to get from the living room to the refridgerator if the stove was on.

"Sure." Emily said, taking her helmet off. She had just started walking up the steps when a black van turned the corner near the house. The door of van slid open and shots rang out in the peaceful evening air.

**A/N: Dun Dun Dun! Thanks so much for all of the reviews! I really hope ya'll continue to like this story. I have some of chapter 4 written, just need to finsh it and get it typed up. I hope ya'll don't hate me too much after its up. :-)**


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I do not own Sons of Anarchy. Most of the characters in this story, with the exception of Emily, are owned by Kurt Sutter. If you do not recognize a character, they are probably a figment of my imagination. **

**Ch. 4**

Emily woke up in a hospital bed. At first she couldn't remember what had happened, but as she lay there blinking up at the white ceiling flashes of it started to come back. Shots being fired, Happy yelling for her to get down, a heavy body landing on her's and sheilding her body from the spray of bullets, and then pain.

"Tiny?" Emily turned her head to the side to see a tired looking Quinn.

"You came back." Her voice came out dry and raspy.

"You knew I was gone? Tink said they didn't tell you." Quinn looked away, knowing that it had been wrong of him to leave her with no explanation. It had all been overwhelming, though. But then he got the call saying Emily had been shot and he came speeding back to Washington.

"Tink isn't a very good liar. She didn't know I knew." Emily said. "Is Happy okay?"

Quinn looked even more uncomfortable at this question. "He didn't get hit." Emil was relieved to hear this. "But he and a couple of the Tacoma guys were sent after the ones that shot at ya. They were from a rival gang that samtac has been havin' problems with. Hap and the guys killed 'em, but ended up getting picked up by the cops too. They're lookin' at probably a five year stretch in the State penn.

Emily looked down at her hands. There was a hospital band around her left wrist and an IV in her right hand. Running up both arms were scars and burns.

The day that he had gone shopping with Emily and Tink, Happy had seen the scars. Emily had come out of the dressing room in a short sleeved shirt that Tink had insisted she try on. Tink had taken one look at her arms, gotten flustered and rushed away to go find some more long sleeved shirts for Emily to try. Happy had grabbed Emily's arm when she tried to rush back into the fitting room, gazing down at the scars with an unreadable look. Then he had taken a sharpie out of his pocket and drawn a little smiley face on each of her wrists.

"They aren't ugly. They're part of you, so they're perfect. Anybody ever makes you feel like they aren't, just remember these." Happy had rubbed his thumb lightly over one of the faces, and then let her arm go.

Happy understood her and now he was going to be gone? Five years? That was a long time.

"I'm gonna go find your nurse and tell Bear and Tink that you're finally awake." Quinn said. "You were out for four days, scared the hell out of us."

Emily was released from the hospital the next day and brought straight to the clubhouse, which was currently under lockdown. Apparentley the war with samtac and this rival gang was comming to a head thanks to some of the information Happy, Chico, and Paul were able to get from the shooters and the club wanted everyone out of harm's way.

Two bullets had hit her. One went through her back and lodged itself in her right kidney, which had ended up having to be removed, and the other had hit her leg and shattered her tibia. So, she was hopping around on crutches when she went into the clubhouse for the second time.

There were many more people here than last time and alot more bikers. Quinn had told her that the club had called for help from some of the nomads and the California charter.

All in all, it was way more people than Emily wanted to be in one room with. The little voice of self preservation was yelling in her head to run and her hands were getting sweaty on the handles of her crutches. There were way too many people here to watch all of them. She wished that Happy were here.

Emily looked up at Quinn, who was looking back at her concerned. "Can I go outside?"

Quinn wasn't sure what was going on with Emily, but her eyes were begging him to say yes, so he nodded. "Don't go outside the gate."

The Nomad President watched his daughter limp back through the door on her crutches and shook his head. He needed to talk to her, but he didn't know how to start. Instead, he made his way to the bar.

Emily found a safe place at the side of the building. There was a picnic table there and she could see the clubhouse entrance and the gate entrance as well as the garage that samtac used as its legitimate business front. She sat there with her crutches propped against the table reading the book Happy had gotten her.

A shrill bark made Emily look up from the book and towards the clubhouse door. She had been scanning the area every other page, but now there was a little puppy bounding towards her. A tall man with curly black hair was running after it, but paused when he saw her. He had on a Sons of Anarchy cutt and sunglasses. The German Shepard puppy bounded right up to Emily and jumped into her lap, sitting and barking. It was a curious bark that clearly meant "Hey, Daddy! I found something! Now what is it?" in dog speak.

"Ah, Missy. What the hell you jumping on people for, huh?" The man scooped the puppy off of Emily's lap and held it to his chest.

"Hey, shouldn't you be in the clubhouse?" The man had turned to Emily now, looking down at her through his sunglasses. "And who are you, anyway?"

"Emily Quinn." She answered the second question first. "Too many people."

"Quinn? Like Rane Quinn?" Tig asked. Emily nodded. The computer guy in samtac had gotten her records changed since Quinn hadn't signed anything to get custody of her from social services. Her official name was now Emily Quinn and according to paper she had just moved in with her Uncle Anthony 'Bear' Michaels. They had needed the records so she could start school when the lockdown was over.

"Shit. Well, you should definately be inside then. You already got shot once; don't think Quinn could handle it happening again." The man said. He watched a look of panic go across the girl's face, sighed, and sat beside her. "Got people problems, huh?"

Emily nodded. Missy, the puppy, had wriggled her way out of the guy's arms and back into Emily's lap. Emily started scratching her behind the ears.

"Ok, I'll go in with you and we'll find you a nice place in a corner where nobody will be behind you and people probably won't even notice you, alright?" The guy said. "And if anyone starts messing with you, you come find me and I'll take care of it."

Emily nodded again reluctantly. "Okay." Missy whinned when Tig picked her back up.

"What? You like her better than me now?" The puppy looked up at him. "Well, too damn bad. She's on crutches and can't carry your fat ass right now."

Emily followed the man back to the clubhouse. Once inside, he led her to the far corner of the room where there was a vacant couch. As promised, she could see the whole room from here. "Here. I'll leave Missy with you so you don't get lonely. And I'm Tig, by the way." Tig handed the puppy back to Emily and walked away.

Missy made herself comfortable on the couch cushion right up against Emily's leg and Emily opened her book and started reading again, ignoring all the noise around her.

**A/N: So there's chapter 4. Happy is in prison and Emily has now met Tig. I wanted to show Missy as a puppy too because I thought her and Tig had to have been cute. How did you like the smiley face thing with Happy and Emily? I've decided to make that Happy's inspiration for the Smiley Face tattoos for his club kills and now he's earned his first one :-)**


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: I do not own Sons of Anarchy. Kurt Sutter owns these characters and I play with them. Any characters that you do not recongnize are a figment of my imagination. **

**Chapter 5**

Emily woke up the next day with a cold, wet nose snuffling around on her face. Missy had slept on the couch with her last night and was now awake, apparently that ment she wanted Emily to be awake too.

"Alright, alright." Emily started to get up only to realize that a heavy arm was drapped over her middle and the pillow she had her head on was someone's lap.

"You awake, Tiny?" Emily looked up at Quinn. He looked like he had been awake for awhile, but had stayed there. Emily vaguely remembered Quinn coming to sit with her late last night, but she must have fallen asleep after that. Had he stayed here all night?

"You're still here." It wasn't a question. She was still lying down, gazing up at Quinn. The arm across her prevented her from sitting up and Quinn wasn't showing any signs of moving.

Missy had jumped down and run accross the room to Tig when he had stumbled into the room from the hall, her little claws clicking on the floor. Tig scooped her up and looked over to where Emily and Quinn were.

"Thanks for watching her, Em." Tig called. He was eyeing the two of them suspiciously as if trying to figure out if it was okay to leave Emily with Quinn. The Nomad president had been all pissed and broody since he and Bear had disappeared into the chapel last night. The girl seemed okay, though.

"You're welcome. She's sweet." TIg nodded and went outside with Missy, satisfied that Emily was alright.

Quinn watched Tig leave. "Yeah, I'm still here. You know Tig?"

Emily looked back up at Quinn. "He found me outside yesterday and walked me back in and over here. He left Missy with me and said that if anyone bothered me to find him." Emily explained.

"Why'd you freak out and leave in the first place?" Quinn questioned.

"Too many people." Quinn still looked confused. "I don't like people. Are you going to let me get up?"

"No."

Quinn didn't know what he was doing, but he guessed this was his way of having a talk with his kid. Bear had come up to him last night and told him about intel a couple of brothers had gatered. Apparentlly the shooters were targeting Emily specifically. They had been hired to either capture or kill her and Quinn needed to know why.

"Name Chris Murdock sound familiar." Quinn knew instantly that it did because Emily immediately started struggling to get up and run. Quinn tightened his arm around her, holding one hand against her forhead and leaning down to look her in the eyes. For the first time he saw fear there. Real fear. "Shh, stop fighting, Tiny. Gonna pull your stitches. Ain't nobody here gonna hurt ya. There's people that want to, though. Enough to pay someone else to do it and I need to know why. Who is he?"

Emily had stopped struggling, but Quinn didn't ease his grip on her. She had no other choice but to tell him. Quinn was still looking down at her, waiting for her to tell him who Murdock was. Emily looked away from him and began to speak with her face pressed against his leg.

"Mamma owed him too much money, so she gave me to him instead." Her voice was barely audible when she said this, but Quinn heard every word. "I was nine."

"You were never in foster care." Quinn realized. He was trying to control the rage searing through him. It wasn't directed at Emily, but he knew if he let it out infront of her she would think it was. The arm he had around her had tightened involuntarily at this news and Quinn quickly removed it, realizing that he was probably hurting the small girl. God, he really had to get this Daddy shit figured out.

Once free of Quinn's girp, Emily sat up and wrapped the blanket that Quinn had thrown over her last night tightly around her shoulders, not looking at him.

"No. Just with him."

Quinn leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "How did you end up with me, then? I know you're mine. I had a DNA test done while you were in the hospital." He questioned.

"Ian." Emily said. Quinn didn't know who Ian was. "His bodyguard. He found you and hired someone to 'kidnap' me and take me to you. I guess He found out." She hoped Ian was okay. He had always been nice to her and always patched her up after He hurt her.

Quinn made a mental note that Emily wouldn't call Murdock by his name. Tink had said something about Emily having a weird thing with names.

"He did. Those shooters the other day were hired by him to bring you back to him or kill ou if they couldn't get you alive." Quinn said. "Listen. You don't leave this clubhouse, not even to just go outside, until all this is over and that bastard is dead. Understand?"

Emily nodded. Was Quinn reallly going to kill the man that had been her personal monster for so long? She dared to let herself be hopeful.

Quinn watched the hopefull look come up in Emily's eyes at the thought of Murdock's death. He knew that he couldn't put off asking the question he'd been dreading since day one anymore. Now that question was even worse than he had first thought, what if it had been going on since she was nine? How was he ever going to fix that?

"Tiny. . . Did he ever touch you? Sexually?" Quinn couldn't think of any better way to ask it. His fears were confirmed by a small nod. The Nomad president felt like he was going to be sick, but he had to know. "When did it start?"

Emily wasn't looking at him. Again. It struck Quinn then how odd it was that she wasn't looking at him. She always looked everyone straight in the eyes.

"Before mamma gave me to him. He gave her the drugs for less if she let him do things to me." That was it. Quinn stood quickly and made for the nearest bathroom to vomit.

The other families had been allowed to leave once it was clear that Emily was the only target. Quinn had told the rest of the club members what Emily had told him about Murdock during church. Needless to say, his brothers were as eager for the man's painful death as Quinn was.

Most of the Charming charter went back home after the threat of a larger problem was off the table, but John Teller, Clay, Otto, and Tig all sayed to help. Midget, Bill, and Tank of the Nomads stayed as well. It had been decided that Emily was to be under the constant supervision of at least one club member at all times until this was taken care of. This was made easy by the fact that she wasn't allowed to leave the clubhouse and that as long as she had her book, the girl was content to stay right where she was.

"You do anything but read?" TIg asked as he flopped himself down onthe couch beside her. He was on guard duty while the rest of the guys were either working at the garage or out trying to find a way to Murdock.

"No. Not really." Emiy answered. Tig plucked the book from her hand, moved the bookmark to the page she had been reading, and snapped it shut.

"Well, I'm bored, so I'm going to teach you to play pool." He said. "Come on, Doll."

Emiy thought it was funny how Tig called every female 'Doll', but he had confessed to her that actual dolls creeped him out.

Tig handed her a pool cue, one of the shorter ones, and took one for himself. Emily didn't need her crutches to stand anymore, so she just had one with her to help her move around the table.

Once Tig had set up the table, he started explaining the rules. Then he let Emily take the first shot. The balls took off in every direction from where the Q had hit, but nothing made it into a socket. "Alright, that's cool. Normally, now I would take my turn and hit one into a socket. Whatever type of ball it was, stripes or solids, would be mine. This time, though, I want you to give it another try and see if you can get anything in. Try that one."

Tig pointed to a solid ball that was just a few inches from a corner socket. Emily tired, but it just went careening off to the side.

"You'll get better. Especially once you get both legs back." Tig assured her. "Watch how I do it." He lined up a striped ball and shot it easily into a side pocket. "See?" Then he intentionally missed the next shot so Emily could try again.

Tig and Emily spent the day like this. After a few bad shots, Emily finally got one of the solid balls into a hole. Tig had put all but two of the striped ones in by this point.

"Good job. You're getting there." JT said. He had been the first to get back to the clubhouse for the day and had been watching them play. Emily looked over at the samcro president. She didn't smile, but her eyes looked happy.

JT nodded at Tig in approval. The guy was a cold-blooded killer and creepy at the best of times. If JT had had any daughters he woulnd't have left them alone with Tig for a minute, which was why he had hurried back to the clubhouse after hearing that Tig was the one watching Emily. He seemed to be doing a good job, though. Who would have guessed that Tiggy had a paternal side to him? Certainly not JT.

**A/N: Sorry it took so long to update. College, work, best friend's bridal shower, and various family medical problems keep comming up. I hope ya'll like this chapter; the truth about Emily's past has come out. And more Missy and Tig being sweet. I don't know what the next chapter is going to be yet, but we may see Happy again, he's still going to be in jail though. Until next time, hope ya'll enjoy. **


	6. Chapter 6

**CH. 6**

All Emily could register when she woke was pain. Her wrists were cuffed to the bedposts on either side of her, keeping her arms and shoulders off the bed at a painful angle.

HE had been angry when Ian got back home with her. HE had said that she had run away, and she was too afraid of him to argue. Emily had plenty of new marks that were going to be permanent to prove his anger, the most painful on the soft skin of her stomach. It started just above her navel and ended just under her breasts. HE had taken an iron, heated it and pressed it into her skin. The smell of her own burning flesh had been enough to gag her and when he finally took the hot iron away, bits of her skin had gone with it.

She had never made HIM angry before. All the other marks he had ever put on her were out of boredom or curiosity. 'How loud will she scream if I do this?' This time it was anger and she had never been in such pain.

Emily heard the door opening and whimpered, thinking it was HIM coming back for more. Instead, it was another man. Tall with dark brown hair pulled back into a knot and dark uncertain eyes. He wore black clothes and black gloves. Ian.

Ian carried a bottle of water and a bowl filled with water and a washcloth. Without speaking, Ian helped Emily take several sips form the water bottle before beginning to clean the blood off of her. The bodyguard silently inspected each of the cuts, bruises, burns, and shallow stab wounds as he went.

"You were supposed to be safe with your family." Ian finally said while he gently moved one of Emily's legs to the side. She didn't fight him, knowing that he had no sexual interest in her. His entire world revolved around serving his master.

"I was safe. Then you took me away and brought me back here." Emily said, tears springing to her eyes as Ian pressed lightly on her lower abdomen to assess the damage done. Having cleared Emily's female parts of blood and their master's semen, Ian could see the bruises beginning to color the pale skin of Emily's highs and higher, and was worried about the internal damage. She seemed to have stopped bleeding, though, and he supposed that her body was used to their master's needs by now.

"I was following orders." Ian said. Though he had been the one to get Emily taken away in the first place, Ian would never disobey a direct order. After all, Master had told him not to let Emily run away. He had said nothing about not hiring someone else to take her away while Ian was conveniently out handling another matter. Ian did love a loophole.

XX XX XX XX XX

Quinn was alone in her dorm at the Tacoma clubhouse, making his way to the bottom of a Jack Daniels bottle. Try as he might, he couldn't get the terrified look on Emily's face when they had talked about Murdock out of his mind. It kept swimming to the front of his alcohol dulled thoughts. He just couldn't make it go away, knowing that she was now back with that monster, that he had let her be taken from him.

They were still trying to piece together what had happened, but all Quinn could remember was a series of explosions outside. The sound had effectively cleared that clubhouse of all but him and Emily. Then he remembered the door busting open, then nothing. Two tranquilizer darts had caught him in the neck, effectively dropping him for the next twelve hours. By the time he woke, his daughter was long gone without a trace.

He drained the last of the bitter liquid from the bottle, but it did nothing for the guilt. Neither did the sound of shattering glass that followed him throwing the bottle at the wall and hitting the mirror instead. Quinn collapsed back onto the bed to stare at the mess of glass.

XX XX XX XX XX

Four weeks behind bars with no news from the club seemed harsher to Happy than the five year sentence he and his brothers were serving. He tried to convince himself it was the club he was missing, not the girl that had only been in his life for a few days when he got arrested.

The initial no-contact phase was over now, though, and Happy had been called in to meet with his first visitor of this five year stretch. Bear. Happy felt a strange feeling of apprehension as he approached the president of the charter he hoped to be getting patched into when his year was up. Of course he would still be behind bars, but better to be inside with brothers than inside alone.

Immediately upon being let into the visitation room, Happy knew that something had gone down. Bear looked years older, sitting with hunched shoulders and a sad face.

"Bear." Happy said in greeting as he sat down across from him.

Bear looked straight at Happy, speaking in his deep voice. "How are you three handlin' it? Nords watching your back like they agreed?" Bear was always concerned for his club members on the inside and had been worried that the Nords wouldn't hold up their end of the deal with two of the three SONS they were supposed to protect being brown.

"Yeah. Things have been quiet so far, though." Both Happy and Bear knew that this could change any minute. "How're things in Tacoma?" Happy ignored his desire to ask how Emily was. She had still been unconscious when he had been arrested and he hadn't heard yet if or how well she had recovered.

The look on Bear's face said that this was the part of the conversation he hadn't wanted to get to.

"Little bit's been taken." He said. Happy said nothing, sitting silently and waiting for Bear to explain. Dozens of thoughts were running through his mind, though, most of them murderous.

"Found out she was never in foster care. Some Goddamned pedophile drug-dealer had had her since she was nine." Bear growled. It was times like these that made him feel every bit as old as he was, sometimes even older. "He's the one that put the hit out on her, and now he's got her back."

Happy closed his eyes, trying to reign in the anger that was building up. Someone had Emily, his Emily, and there was nothing he could do about it. He had never felt so helpless.


	7. Chapter 7

**DISCLAIMER: I only own the characters you don't recognize. **

**Ch. 7**

Emily woke to a sickeningly familiar pressure between her legs and opened her eyes to look up at HIM just as he pushed forward into her. HE flashed a cruel smile at her when she cried out in pain. He was much too large for her tiny body to take in without pain, especially all at once. Also, her arms, back, and shoulders were killing her. Sharp sparks of pain shooting though them at every movement.

Murdock grabbed a handful of Emily's hair, yanking her head back to look him in the eye.

"I've decided that its time you gave me something to compensate for running off like the ungrateful bitch you are." Emily knew better than to disagree with him, so she stayed silent and waited for him to tell her exactly what it was she would be giving him. "After all these years that I've taken such good care of you, you run away? It's okay, though. You were getting a little old for me, anyway. I was going to find a replacement, but now I have a better idea."

Emily didn't like where this one-sided conversation was going. Was he doing to finally kill her? What else did men like this do to their victims once they were done with them but dispose of them like garbage? Emily supposed that he might give her to someone else, someone just like him but with a taste for older teenagers. He certainly wouldn't just let her walk away or he would have left her with her family.

He was speaking again. "I want a baby. One I can raise just like I raised you. And what better way to get one than from you, my pet." He smoothed his hand over the side of Emily's face as he watched her process this.

Emily was horrified. He was going to make her have a baby with him? If it was a girl he would do the same thing to it that he did to her. She could see it in his sick eyes; he was looking forward to this. She started fighting against him as soon as it all came together in her mind, taking him by surprise. She had never fought him before, but she could not let this happen. She wasn't her mother.

The first kicks had thrown Murdock from the bed, but he quickly got over the shock. Since Emily's hands were still cuffed to the bed, she could only strike out with her legs. That didn't stop her from pulling on the cuffs, hoping they would break off the headboard. No such luck, though. She only succeeded in making the metal cut into her wrists.

A few swift punches to the head stilled Emily's struggling. She fell back against the bed, dazed, and that is where Murdock left her.

XXX XXX XXX XXX XXX

It had been two days since Emily had been taken from them. They had thrown all their efforts into tracking down Chris Murdock, but had had no luck so far. They were running out of options, and fast, until Gizmo ran into the clubhouse from his dorm looking excited.

"Louisiana!" He said excitedly. Bear, who had been sitting at the bar nursing a beer looked at him like he had lost his mind.

The tech guy wasn't fazed by the look, though. He had received it plenty of times in the past. "Murdock has a place in Louisiana." Gizmo gave them the address. It was just an hour away from the Charter in Covington, LA.

Immediately after hearing this, Quinn was dialing the number for Gator, the president of the Covington charter. Now he remembered who Emily's mother was. He'd spent a month with SAMCOV about fifteen years back and had spent most of that time with one sweet butt in particular. Mindy. She had been strung out most of the time, but was a good lay. Tiny little thing, just like their kid and had no business raising a child. If he would have known that Mindy was pregnant when he left, he would have taken that baby away as soon as she was born.

"What'd Gator say?" Bear asked as soon as Quinn came back into the clubhouse. Bear was still at the bar and had been joined by the remaining Charming members, Midget, and Bill.

"Murdock was known to the club as a dealer, but fell off their radar about ten years back." Quinn said. "Gator said they didn't know about the girl. Sending some guys to go check out that location."

"Louisiana. That'll take days to drive." Bear mused, trying to figure out the best way to get guys there.

Quinn nodded, thinking the same thing. He shook his head. There was no other way. "Giz, get me a fucking plane ticket."

XXX XXX XXX XXX XXX

By the time Ian came into her room Emily had formulated a plan. She had pulled at her cuffs until her wrists bled. Not too much, she wasn't trying to kill herself, but enough to need a bandage.

"Why can't you just lay still and let it happen?" The man asked when he saw what Emily had done to herself.

"He wants me to have a baby." Emily said. "Just let me go."

"No. You are here and you're his. He'll do what he wants with you." Ian had disobeyed his master once, he couldn't do it again.

Emil sighed as he undid her bindings and her shoulders touched the mattress. Her hands had gone numb from being held above her head so long and a tingling sensation was beginning in the tips of her fingers.

She had to think to get her plans to work. Even in good condition she was no match for Ian. Though he had always been kind to her, Emily knew that he was a dangerous man and wouldn't hesitate to hurt her if she fought him or tried to run away. Furthermore, he had a warped view of things, right and wrong, himself and his "master". Sometimes he wanted to find loopholes in orders. On these days he had more of himself in his head. Other days he was only his master's servant and would follow orders exactly. Unfortunately for Emily, today seemed to be one of the days where Ian had no sense of self.

"Can you leave me untied for a little while? My arms hurt." Emily asked as Ian went to cuff her back to the bed.

Ian paused, weighing his answer in his mind. Then he nodded. "Only for a little while."

Emily was left alone, unbound, and planning her escape while waiting for the feeling to come back to her arms.

**A/N: And that's chapter 7. Hope ya'll liked it. I'm still formulating how exactly Emily is going to get free, but it will be the next chapter. Then this story will be just about over and I'll wait a while to begin part two. I do have another story that I'm working one, though. It isn't connected to this one, but it is another Happy/OFC story. Until next time! Thanks for all the reviews. 3**


	8. Chapter 8

DISCLAIMER: I only own the characters you don't recognize.

Ch. 8

Chris Murdock's property was well off the highway, out of site of any prying neighbors. Gator and the five other men that had come with him traveled down a dirt backroad for several miles before almost missing the hairpin turn that led another quarter of a mile down to the house. Gator had to admit, it was the perfect place to keep someone against their will and he signaled for them to park their bikes at the end of the long driveway. No need to announce their presence to anyone in the house.

"We'll go on foot from here. Leave the van too, we can come back and get it when we need it." Gator said, doing a last minute check on his weapons.

"Three front, three round back?" TomTom, the Sergent at Arms, asked.

Gator nodded. He, Hobo, and Fitz drew their guns and headed toward the front of the house while TomTom, Miguel, and Ralf went around the back.

The house itself was falling into direpair. It was a one story house with peeling paint and missing boards, the wrap around porch had holes in it and the men had to be careful where they stepped to avoid falling though in places. The screen door was hanging by one hinge, but the wooden door beyond it was sturdy and locked.

"Shit." Gator had hoped to be able to sneak in without being heard, but shooting a lock off was going to change that plan.

XXX XXX XXX XXX XXX XXX

Emily opened her eyes slowly. She was laying in the kitchen in a pool of blood, blood was smeared over the floor and the wall beside her. She couldn't tell if it was hers or if it was from the man a few feet away from her. Some of the blood had smeared in a trail behind him, like he had tried to drag himself away. He wasn't moving anymore, though. Just staring blankly back at Emily.

Chris Ian Murdock.

The knife was still in Emily's hand and she only vaguely remembered stabbing him. Like flashes of a dream that you couldn't completely recall once you woke up. She was too tired to try to remember, though, and she didn't want to remember. She had killed Ian.

There was a loud sound, but Emily didn't react to it and just kept watching Ian. Not until she felt someone roll her over onto her back did she look away from the dead man.

"Emily? Are you Emily?" The stranger was saying, holding her shoulder's gently. He was an older man with long greying hair and a beard. Like her father's friends. He wore a cutt like theirs too. Like Quinn and Tig.

"Here, let me have that, Darlin'." Another man, this one more clean cut, knelt down beside them and eased the knife out of Emily's hand. "I'll take care of her." He then said to the first man. Emily couldn't seem to make herself speak.

The first man nodded to the second and left. To do what, Emily didn't know. The second man looked back down at her and smiled. It was a friendly smile. "Hey, Darlin', I'm Fitz. Gonna get ya some help, okay? Just gotta take a look at ya, not gonna hurt ya." He was speaking slowly, like you would talk to a person with a gun to their head.

Fitz peeled away the bloody sheet Emily was wrapped in and cursed at the sight of the large blackened burn on her stomach. There were some more shallow cuts scattered around her body and a deep gash on the side of her head, like she had been knocked out during the struggle that killed the man behind them. She also had a deep cut on her hand that was bleeding freely along with the head wound. Fitz grabbed some paper towels from the counter beside them and pressed them to her head and hand, glad that her wrists were already bandaged and he didn't have to deal with whatever those bandages were covering up right now. He'd wait until they got her to the clubhouse.

Once confirming that this was all over her injuries that needed any immediate attention, Fitz covered her back up. Most of the blood must have come from the dead guy behind them and he vaguely wondered how many times this girl had stabbed him. He pushed the question to the back of his mind, though. Didn't matter. Fucker was dead and deserved to be dead. Fitz had seen the bruises on the girl's thighs before he covered her back up.

"Alright, Darlin'. I'm gonna pick you up and put you in the back of our van and we're gonna get you to a safe place. I'll stay with you the whole time." Fitz talked to her as he gently picked her up, taking care not to pull at the skin around her burn. "I don't think we need to bring you to a hospital, I can patch you up when we get back to the clubhouse." He rambled on, more to try to keep the girl awake than anything else. She just kept watching him, not speaking, but he could tell that she wanted to fall back asleep. He couldn't let her do that with the head injury though, Quinn would kill him if Fitz let his daughter die from a concussion.

"Dad?" It was almost a whisper, but Fitz heard it.

"Your dad is on his way. He'll be at the clubhouse later today. Flying in to get here faster." Fitz said, setting the girl down in the back of the van gently. Miguel was already in the driver's seat.

"Gator said take her to the clubhouse, they'd deal with this place." Miguel said, starting up the engine. Fitz nodded, sitting down beside Emily and going back to holding pressure on her head and hand.

"Yeah, lets get her outta here."

XXX XXX XXX XXX XXX XXX

They put Emily in one of the rooms reserved for out of town brothers. All of the bleeding had stopped before they got to the clubhouse and Fitz had been able to clean and dress the wounds with the supplies they had brough with them. He wasn't completely sure what to do about the burn, though. He cleaned it well and put some burn ointment on it, but left it uncovered.

One of the old ladies had come in with some clothes for Emily, and Fitz left the room to let the woman dress the partialy concious girl.

"How is she?" Gator asked the club's medic.

Fitz shook his head. "I don't know. She isn't saying anything. Asked for Quinn once. I don't want to leave her alone with that head injury, though. Need to keep her awake for a while." Fitz rambled on. "Got a nasty burn on her belly, though. Looks like an iron or something."

Gator nodded. "The location's been cleared. Got rid of the body and burnt the house to the ground. Guys are gone to meet Quinn and Tig. They'll be here any minute." It had surprised Gator at first that Tig was comming, but Bear had explained that he had formed some kind of weird Uncle-like bond with the girl. She must really be a piece of work.

Fitz heard the sound of motorcycles comming up as he went back into Emily's room.

**A/N: Chapter 8. Finally. So, Emily's back in safe hands and the bad guy is dead. Did ya'll understand what I did with Ian/Chris, or do I need to explain it in the next chapter? It might have been too vague. Anyway, in the next few chapters, once she is feeling better, we might get some Happy and Emily moments. It will be in jail, though, I'm sorry to tell you. Happy is staying until Emily is at least 18. For age reasons. :)**


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